Gilan, goats, and a grey hair
by Mychele O'Carrik of Clonmel
Summary: On the second day of Gilan's apprenticeship to Halt, Gilan goes to town for the farmers market, and comes back under strange circumstances. The story of Halt's first grey hair! Cuz Halt and Gilan just rock that way.The other chaps are a colection of Gil-centric oneshots. cover art by me, for chap 4. Yes, it's Gilan.:3
1. Grey Goats Gruff

A/N Hey everyone! this is my first story; it's just a lil' oneshot about the first time Gil gave Halt grey hairs. Plot bunnies will strike!lol XD Hope you enjoy it! please give me feedback on it, i appreciate constructive criticism, so R&R!:)~Mychele O'Carrik

Disclaimer:I do not, and never will (Alas!) own Ranger's Apprentice. John Flannagan owns everything. Cuz he's awesome like that. :D:D:D:D Disclaimer for entire story.

**Gilan, grey hairs, and a goat**

It was the second day of Gilan's apprenticeship to Halt. Back at his cabin in Redmont, the latter was sitting on the veranda reading reports.

_Peace at last,_ The grizzled ranger thought in relief. He'd just sent Gilan into town to buy fresh food and produce; today was the weekly farmers market, and a Saturday. Halt gratefully told the boy to take a holiday, as was the usual the custom. Halt hadn't been planning to follow this particular custom, but then again, he hadn't planned on the effect that an over exuberant and utterly naive apprentice would have on him either. Halt rubbed his forehead wearily just thinking about it.

_The endless questions, idiotic antics, blasted __**energy.**_ Halt wasn't exactly known for his good temper and friendly attitude, but Gilan seemed to think that his apprenticeship meant testing how many times Halt would tell him to shut up before threatening to tie him upside-down to a tree and leaving him there. Turns out, three time's the charm.

_What the heck does he think I am anyway? His nanny? _he sighed irritably.

Suddenly, he heard feet pounding up the path. Whoever it was sounded like they were running for their lives. He also heard…a bell? It sounded like the kind farmers put on their cows. Or goats. Gilan appeared around the bend, running frantically and waving his lanky arms wildly. He sped past Halt in a blur of motion; there was an angry looking grey furred Billy goat in hot pursuit; A Billy goat with long, sharp, horns.

"HEEEEEEEEELP!"

As Halt sat watching in disbelief, Gilan ran around the cabin again and again, screaming like a little girl.

"AIIIIIEEEEEE! HELP! HELPHELPHELPHELPHELP!" The goat naahed angrily as it closed the distance between him and the helpless boy. Scowling darkly, Halt got up and walked down the steps purposefully.

"Gilan! STOP!" Immediately, Gilan halted right in front of his mentor, grabbing Halt's sleeve pleadingly.

"Hel-OOF!" The goat backed up for another ram at the boy, who was face first in the dirt rubbing his throbbing behind.

"Owowowowowowww!" He moaned into the dirt. Halt stepped forward just as the goat charged and grabbed one of its horns in a sinewy hand. Holding it still, he commanded. "Quit sniveling and get up before I let this thing have another go at you!" Gilan was up before Halt finished talking, his youthful face smeared and grimed.

"Hey Halt." He grinned sheepishly. "How'd you grab the goat? What where you reading? Did you know it was me running? Isn't that goat kinda hard to hold it like that? What…"

"STOP!" "Sure Halt."

Seeing the murderous look in his mentor's eyes, Gilan began to back away, holding his hands up apologetically.

"No need to get angry Halt…Eh, why don't I go tie myself up to that tree, save you the hassle." He was about to run, but Halt grabbed his shirt front.

"If I were you, boy, I'd be very, very quiet just now." Halt said in a dangerously low voice. Gilan was about to say "Yes Halt." But thought better of it and nodded instead.

* * *

><p>Later that day, after Gilan and Halt returned the pacified goat to its owner, and Gilan had spent the rest of the day scrubbing floors, scouring pots, and writing "I will not try to ride a goat." In chalk all over the side of the cabin before scrubbing it all off, Halt was relaxing and sipping a much needed cup of coffee.<p>

"Halt?" He ignored the boy.

"Halt? Halt? Halthalthalthalthalt?"

"WHAT?" Nonplussed, Gilan asked:

"What's that lil' grey streak in your hair?"

Alarmed, Halt pulled out his saxe knife and used the side of it as a mirror to look at his head. There was a single grey hair in his forelock.

"Why me?" He groaned to himself.

"What did you say Halt?"

"You're giving me grey hairs before my time boy. Hope you're happy." He grumbled sarcastically. Gilan grinned hugely.

"That's it!" Halt stood quickly, knocking over his chair in the process. All signs of mirth wiped off his face, Gilan ran for his life for the second time that day. A sudden thought occurred to him. He tried to stifle it, but the temptation to blurt it out was too great. He couldn't resist calling out, as Halt pursued him through the forest:

"Help! I'm being chased by an old grey goat again!"

* * *

><p><strong>AN Hey! I just made a few lil' changes; syntax etc. Also, i just realized that my beginning A/N had an error that said "Gil gave Halt grey bunnies will strike!" XP Fixed it now.:)**


	2. Mission: prank Halt

**A/N Hey all! Here's another fun (I hope) Gilan and Halt story. Thank you so much for your comments/fav story's/reviews1 they mean the world to me! I got the inspiration for this chap. From **Dodo 123**'s story, Prank wars. (At least I think it was Dodo's story…) You gotta read it! It's really funny! XD Enjoy the update!**

**~Mychele**

**Chapter 2 **

**Mission; prank Halt**

One month into Gilan apprenticeship and he hadn't played a single prank on Halt. Sure, he got in trouble an awful lot, but that wasn't exactly intentional. Most of the time. Halt was worried by this; all the other rangers had told him lurid stories of pranks their apprentices had played, or tried to play, on their mentors.

All day, halt had been looking at Gilan suspiciously. Gilan, in turn, was looking at Halt as if he had carrots sprouting from his ears.

"_What's been going on with Halt? He's been doing this all week…"_

He finally found out what was up that evening over dinner. Halt had checked the salt and sugar cellars, making sure that Gilan hadn't switched them; then he'd wiggled the legs on his chair to make sure they hadn't been loosened so that he'd fall if he sat in the chair unawares; wiping the rim of his mug to make sure Gilan hadn't smeared ink on it, etc. Gilan watched his mentor out of the corner of his eye as Halt inspected anything and everything, so it seemed; it finally dawned on him that Halt was worried about pranks. Of course, that meant that Gilan would have to devise a deviously devilish prank. The only reason he hadn't done so before was that he wasn't sure you _could_ pull off a prank of the steely eyed ranger. Of course, that thought didn't occur to Gilan now as he put on a façade of innocence thought dinner, acting entirely normal. At least, as normal as Gilan ever can be. Halt was going for it hook, line and sinker. All those years of pranking his sisters were going to come in handy, Gilan thought. He had to disguise an evil glimmer in his eyes as a perfectly, beautifully sadistic idea occurred to him. Only problem, it required the impossible: sneaking up on Halt, in his sleep.

That night, Gilan crept out of bed, using all of his recently acquired skill to move soundlessly, avoiding the boards that squeaked, walking in the shadows, putting down his feet toe first, and then slowly rolling his foot down until his heel rested on the floor. Then the next step…

Finally, he reached halt's door across the small hallway between their doors. He paused outside the room, listening silently. Detecting the deep, regular sound of Halt's breathing, he slowed his own to match it. Then, slowly, he used a soft oiled cloth on the end of a short stick, which he'd been carrying ready with him, and he oiled the latch on Halt's door, as well as the hinges. Halt never oiled them himself so that if someone ever tried to sneak in, as Gilan was doing now, the squeaky hinges would alert Halt and wake him up.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, but was in fact only a few minutes, Gilan was next to Halt's bed, tools in hand. He'd spent several minutes just pulling them out of his belt where he'd concealed them. A fine brush, with grey dye on it; the same that Halt had used to teach Gilan how to give plain green cloaks the trademark grey-and-green mottling. Slowly, ever so quietly, so silently, breathing evenly, Gilan bent over the unaware form of his sleeping mentor. He couldn't resist the evil smirk spreading across his features: imagine the look on Halt's face when he woke up and realized that his entire beard was grey haired! He'd never guess that his smart, resourceful, witty, charming, and ever so deviously-smarter-than-Halt had dyed it that way…

A hand shot out of nowhere; Gilan yelped in surprise. Halt hadn't even moved! He…was still asleep? Albeit, gripping Gilan's wrist so hard that he was sure it would be crippled for life. But, it must have only been a reflex reaction thought Gilan gleefully. He switched the brush to his other hand, and did the deed. Halt rolled over, scratching his chin, releasing Gilan's wrist. He had to suppress a sigh of relief, before he made it safely back to bed, after carefully hiding the tools of crime.

The next morning, Gilan was even more zombie-like than usual, considering the events of the night before. Halt hadn't seemed to notice anything yet…The prank! Gilan remembered groggily. As he reached for his coffee, which he'd quickly, become dependent on to get him going in the morning, he took a swallow…and quickly spat it out.

"Yuck! It tastes like salt!" He glared suspiciously at Halt, who took no notice. Halt seemed all too normal this morning, thought Gilan. Too normal? Wasn't there supposed to be something _un_normal? His vision was still slightly bleary from sleep, and he couldn't tell what was _un_wrong with Halt. He sat slowly in his chair, trying to puzzle it out. Halt sipped innocently from his coffee mug, drawing Gilan's gaze to his beard…**which was jet black.** Flabbergasted, Gilan sat back heavily. Crack!

"Why Gilan, whatever are you doing on the floor? I hope it wasn't that you forgot to tighten your chair legs; I always do tell you they'll get loose if you keep tilting it onto them." Halt said pleasantly.

Gilan sat amid the wreckage of his chair, and gaped at Halt's beard.

"H-h-how? Your beard!" He stuttered.

"What's wrong with it?"

Gilan only shook his head. What could have gone wrong? Then he caught sight of his reflection in the straight sided coffee pot. There was a distinct black ring around his mouth, and over his nose. He looked down at his coffee mug, which was rimmed with black ink. Slowly, realization dawned on Gilan; Halt's beard _did _look a tad more inky black than usual.

"Well, Gilan, don't just sit there all morning! Go clean yourself up; you can fix your chair after breakfast." Said Halt. Gilan could've sworn that he looked smug. But, then again, you never could tell with Halt. Standing and shaking his head ruefully, Gilan headed toward the washroom.

"Oh, and Gilan?"

"Yes Halt?"

"Don't even bother trying to prank me. You'll fail."

"Don't I know it." Muttered Gilan.


	3. Why is it Red!

Why is it _Red?_

Gilan stumbled into the washroom.

_Huh. Remember to remind me never to try and prank Halt again._

His imagination didn't quite like that.

_Alright, fine! Remind me not to try and prank Halt until I've got a better idea of what I'm up against._

Appeased, his imagination agreed. Still sleepy despite all Halt could do, the lazy boy glanced into the burnished tin plate that served as a rough mirror; what he saw caused him to yelp in alarm.

"Ink on my mug rim and salt in my coffee and broken chair legs are all very well, _but did he have to dye my hair red?"_

Placidly sipping his coffee, as if he hadn't just heard Gilan's yelp, Halt thought smugly to himself:

_About time the kid woke up. That'll teach him to mess with my beard._

As Gilan stormed out of the washroom, I must admit, he looked hilarious with flaming red hair and a black circle around his nose and upper-lip.

"What the heck Halt?"

He paused a moment to savor his pleasing alliteration. Then he noticed the look on Halt's face.

"Er, uh, umm…"

"Got a problem boy?"

"Uh, heh heh, no, no problem at all."

"At all _what?_"

"No sir! No problem at all sir!"

Coming to attention smartly, Gilan saluted.

"Who do you think I am? A drill sergeant?"

"Um, n-no Halt." He replied meekly.

"Go clean yourself up, then go outside to practice; but I don't think that dye will be coming out any time soon." He said dryly.

Gilan quickly fired up again. He missed throwing tantrums, and he wanted to find out how Halt reacted to them. Not a smart idea.

Throwing back his head, Gilan nearly shouted:

"No! I WON'T clean myself up! I'm MAD! I don't wanna have red hair!"

He began to march comically around the cabin, sticking out his gangly legs straight in front of him, and pumping his arms up-and-down, fists clenched.

"I don't like red! Red is scary! You're scary enough for two Rangers! Heck, You're scary enough for _ten_ Rangers! I _willn't_ go outside! I _willn't_ accept that _'will not'_ is contracted as _'won't'! I WILLN'T!"_

In his protestations, he failed to notice scary Halt getting scarier, and scarier.

"Gilan."

"NO!"

"Gilan."

"_**NO!"**_

Lazily, Halt threw his saxe at Gilan so that it hit hilt-first. Gilan toppled to the ground for all the world like an angry anime. Not that they know what that is.

Halt stood over the boy menacingly.

"Do you like hanging upside-down from trees, or should I tell your mother about this little episode?"

Gilan's eyes widened.

"M-m-m-m-mother?" He squeaked.

"Yes. Your mother."

"Please Halt! Not my mother! She'll _kill_ me! Well, you will to, but _she'll_ kill me _worse!_ I'll do anything Halt! Anything!"

He was practically sniveling.

"Get off the ground boy!" Halt grunted in disgust.

"You will have double house chores and practice for a week, and for the rest of the month you will spend your Saturday holiday helping at his shop."

Gilan gasped.

"Surely you don't mean the father of those terrible triplets!"

"I surely do mean him. And you will fix the broken chair, and wipe all the ink off your mug."

Here he glanced at the ink ring on Gilan's face.

"Both of them. But first, get me a rope. We need to find a higher tree this time…"

Gilan groaned in lamentation.

"Uhhg, maybe you should just tell my mother." He muttered.

"What was that Gilan?"

"NOTHING! Absolutely nothing Halt!"

"I thought so. Now get a move on!"

* * *

><p><strong>AN Btw, this is a sequel to chap 2: Mission: Prank Halt. What do you think of his punishment? XD**


	4. Edgy Existence

Edgy Existence

Halt and Gilan rode through the portcullis of Castle Caraway, Gilan's home. They were at Caraway for Gilan's usual sword training and for his father's assessment of Gilan; but this was their first time at the castle since the unfortunate "incident" with red hair dye.

To Halt's horror, Gilan had quickly overcome his hatred of the new 'do, and actually seemed to _like_ it. Something about it being "dangerous" and "edgy" and "rebellious". When Halt asked why Gilan considered rebellion a _good_ thing, Gilan replied cheekily:

"I'm only learning from _you_ Halt," he said, opening his eyes wide and batting his eyelashes in a way he figured was "innocent".

Of course, Gilan had three extra hours of practice in gratitude for the compliment.

What was worse, Gilan got the absurd notion to stick his hair up in ridiculous spikes using egg whites. But, he only did it once before Halt hurled him into a passing moat to wash it out.

Knowing strict Battlemaster David, Halt would have to play it cool to pass off the hair as "necessary for Gilan's training".

And that was why Halt was glaring more terrifyingly than usual at Gilan as they rode into the courtyard, _cowls up_.

* * *

><p>Grinning deviously, Gilan stood in front of the burnished metal mirror in his quarters, fixing his fierce red hair. Everyone was waiting for him at the dinner table, because he had come up to clean himself off after the rigorous training. As Halt had ordered, Gilan made sure no-one saw his hair when he took off his cloak and put on the leather hood for training that covered his head and neck- a precaution common among swordsmen in training. So, nobody knew about his hair yet.<p>

He would only humor Halt for so long however; both knew his parents would find out at dinner, but Halt would surely pass it off as 1. Gilan's fault, and 2. "necessary for training."

But that was about to change.

"Time for the egg whites."

* * *

><p>Talking easily with Battlemaster David and his wife in the private dining room, Halt was starting to get suspicious over how long Gilan was taking.<p>

_If that kid tries anything funny, I'll show him what "edgy" means, cuz he'll be on the edge of his life, _thought the Ranger darkly.

"Yo pops."

All three turned around at the familiar voice- and Halt mentally face-palmed.

In the doorway stood Gilan: he was wearing black breeches, and a matching tunic with red boarders. Behind him flowed a long black cape with a heavy chain fastening it in the front. Gilan's boots weren't his normal Ranger boots, but his old knight boots with steel guards strapped on. Her had scarlet half gloves on either hand, and spiked cuffs. A heavily studded leather belt slouched across his narrow hips, and Gilan's posture was equally slouched. But that was nothing in comparison with-

"Your hair! Gilan, what is the meaning of this?" said David angrily. Gilan's mother buried her face in her hands, moaning about "his lovely hair! Oh, his hair!" And if looks could kill, well, Halt would've murdered his apprentice.

Gilan's flaming red hair now had a black streak in it, over his right temple, and the long hair was spiked into a gigantic flame; it twisted above his head, a few strands hanging over his forehead and the fringes separated by the egg whites spiked around his head.

Lazily, Gilan's eyes flicked over each viewer briefly. He yawned boredly. Determined not to let Gilan get to him, Halt raised an eyebrow, viewing the boy as if he was an amusing wild animal. But it still annoyed the heck out of him!

David stood up abruptly, and strode over to his son.

"Gilan, answer me! What the heck are you wearing? And what is _that?"_ he asked, gesturing disgustedly at Gilan's hair.

"What, don't know what _hair_ is pops?" snorted Gilan. David grabbed a fistful of Gilan's collar, roaring into his face as Gilan hung slackly in complete indifference.

"SILENCE CHEEK! YOU WILL ADDRESS ME RESPECTFULLY!"

"Yeah, whatever. This is necessary; I'm just following my training pops," he drawled with a smirk. David looked like he might hit Gilan for a minute, but caught the last part and frowned in confusion. Mr. Rebel took the chance to jerk out of his father's grip, straightening his cape with an important gesture. David turned to Halt with a querying expression.

"What is he talking about Halt? Training?"

Halt rolled his eyes. "He's being stupid. I don't know what got into his head to do _that_." He addressed Gilan. "And you! I don't care how smart you think you're being, but boy are you in for it Gilan. I want an explanation. _Now_." His voice was low and dangerous.

Gilan straightened up, a puzzled look on his face.

"Master Halt, you instructed me to dress thus. For are you not the magician Arratez?" Gilan went down on one knee to Halt, bowing. Baffled, David rounded on Halt.

"What are you teaching him? I thought Ranger's weren't involved in those things!"

Angrily, Halt stood. "We aren't! That fool of a boy is either insane or really wants to get killed!" he growled.

"Well then what is he talking about? He didn't used to dress this way!" David fairly yelled.

"Master Halt, you yourself dyed my hair. It was part of my initiation rite," intoned Gilan mystically, addressing the last remark to his enraged father.

"Is that true?" snarled David.

"Of course not!" bellowed halt. "Gilan is making that up to annoy me. Bad move boy!" he started towards Gilan.

Even though he was internally terrified, Gilan rose imperiously, bowed to Halt, and said:

"Master Halt, you know that you dyed my hair." Halt was about to do who knows what when David's voice halted him.

"Wait! He keeps insisting that you dyed his hair?"

"So what if I did? The boy deserved it. It was a punishment that he took to unfortunately well. My mistake," Halt growled.

"Why on earth would you dye his hair? That's not part of his training!"

"It was necessary; he tried to prank me."

"So you pranked him back? Lovely Halt. Just lovely."

Gilan was hard put not to grin. This was going too well to be true!

"He needed to be taught a lesson! It's not like I had anything to do with the rest of _that!_" Halt waved a hand at Gilan's attire.

They both looked at Gilan as David was about to retort, but he stopped short when he caught the look on Gilan's face.

He was grinning maniacally.

Suddenly, Battlemaster David knew what was going on.

"Gilan…" he said slowly. Halt looked like a rabid wolf at this point. His hair was fairly standing on end.

Gilan couldn't resist.

"Just look at Halt's hair! You see I was telling the truth about copying him."

Halt snapped. In an instant, he had Gilan's flamboyant collar in his fist, lifting him higher than his head. Without looking away from Gilan's terrified face, he bellowed a question to David.

"Is the moat in reach of this window?"

* * *

><p>The guards on the parapet leaned over the edge at the sound of a yell. They were just in time to see a powerful arm hurl a flash of red and black out the window, and into the muddy moat.<p>

* * *

><p>Spluttering, Gilan finally managed to climb up the muddy walls of the moat and rolled over the edge onto the grass in exhaustion. When he opened his eyes, he saw Halt scowling down at him.<p>

"Not so fun being 'edgy' is it now Gilan."

**A/N Hmmz, not sure how that turned out, but I sure had fun dressing up Gilan! XD He's so funny! Lemme know what you think in a review. :3**


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